


Satisfaction Guarantee

by kuonji



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-11
Updated: 2011-11-11
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:24:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuonji/pseuds/kuonji
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Daniel Jackson hires a cabana boy.  He gets... Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Satisfaction Guarantee

**Author's Note:**

> This story was nominated for a 2010 [Blue Moon Award](http://moonsmusings.com/bluemoon/).
> 
> Alternative Links:  
> <http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/21184.html>

"Dr. Jackson?"

Daniel looked up from his papers. Angie, his housekeeper, was giving him an uncertain look from the doorway of his office.

"Yes, Angie?" he queried, half his mind on hieroglyphs.

"There's a... man here to see you. About the pool?"

"Oh!" Daniel thought he felt his face flush. He'd completely forgotten about the call he'd made yesterday morning.

Yeah, right.

More like, he had blocked it from his conscious mind using his considerable powers of denial. He hadn't been able to sleep last night until he'd promised himself firmly to cancel the appointment first thing in the morning.

Only, when morning came, so had a package from Robert at the Oriental Institute, and Daniel had become genuinely distracted by his work.

"I'll be right down," he said, dismissing Angie with a hopefully casual wave.

"Sir," Angie persisted, her mouth firming. She stepped closer, giving the appearance of secrecy -- perfectly unnecessary as they were the only two people in the 3000 square foot house. "I don't like the look of him."

Daniel was quite sure he was blushing now. "It's fine," he replied, putting a tone of command in his voice that finally sent Angie off, shaking her head as she went.

Daniel marked his place in his reference text, made a few extraneous notes, and finally stood. He smoothed his blue plaid shirt and khakis down, decided against the jacket, and made his way downstairs. A frission of embarrassed excitement necessitated wiping a sweaty hand on his pants before opening the door.

"Dr. Jackson, yeah?"

"Uh...? Who are you?"

Daniel gaped at the grizzle-haired, beard-shadowed man, with a no-nonsense expression under his wide sunglasses. He hefted a large, dirty tube higher over one shoulder, then wiped one hand down on his stained, over-sized lumberjack shirt, before offering it to Daniel.

"Jack," was his answer.

Daniel hesitated, but there didn't seem any graceful way to avoid taking the guy's hand. He did so, reluctantly. "Um, hi," he stammered. "You're not-- I mean... why are you here again?"

A sardonic eyebrow rose towards the tattered, green ball cap. "You called someone to clean your pool, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah."

The guy hefted the tube again, which Daniel now saw led down to a large, square piece of equipment. At the guy's work boot-shod feet was a large bucket filled with other cleaning equipment and an extension cord. "That's me," he said. "This the right house or what?"

"No-- I mean yes. You're just... early, that's all." Daniel did a quick about-face. "The pool's in the back," he said quickly. "This way." His face must be _flaming_ now, though he wasn't certain whether it was from embarrassment or anger.

He was going to murder Sam. And Janet, too. They had both been going on for the last month about the 'special' pool-cleaning company they had found, how 'gorgeous' the service was, how thrillingly 'clean' their pools were now, how deliriously happy they were with the 'labor'.

Sam had been urging Daniel to make an appointment, making all sorts of intimations as to how 'satisfied' he would be. There was no way Daniel had misinterpreted those giggling looks and sly exchanges between the women. Which meant they must have been putting him on.

He wished he had never told them he was attracted to men.

Daniel stopped at the edge of his Miami-style pool, a small affair with a stone fountain at one end. He imagined the moss in the fountain with a small bit of spite. "Have fun," he said, waving a hand at it all. He was not at all bitter. Or disappointed. Of course not. He had more self-respect than to hire a cabana boy.

The pool guy set down his equipment with a double thump. He looked around Daniel's private back yard, apparently surveying his job.

"I'll just be--" Daniel gestured towards the house.

"You're a writer, huh?" the guy interrupted, turning to Daniel.

"Uh, yes. I am," Daniel said, startled into honesty. "How...?"

"You've got some good stuff."

"Wow." Daniel blinked in astonishment. "Thank you."

The guy grinned. "The pyramids as landing pads for aliens! What an idea."

The bright spot of appreciation in Daniel's heart burst with an almost audible pop. "Oh, that," he replied, irritated.

He'd written the novelette as a biting satire, after a colleague had criticized his research in a particularly condescending (and public) way. Unexpectedly, it had gained a following in the science fiction community. Daniel had lost count of how many invitations to sci-fi conventions he had burned.

"I like how you completely destroyed Williamson's theories while making the whole thing entertaining as hell. And the not so subtle allusions to Budge were a riot. I can't believe you got a publisher for it. Isn't Budge a knight or something?"

"He's an outdated, pompous ass who, okay, was probably doing good work for his age, but his theories are completely obsolete now. I don't know why they keep reprinting him." Daniel paused in his familiar spiel. "Wait, you've-- ?"

Jack shrugged. "You gotta admit, though, your research tends to be more destructive than constructive. I mean, c'mon, so you've disproved these other theories, but what's your alternate explanation? Don't get me wrong. Your evidence is solid. But leaving things like that is just... unsettling, you know? I think that's why the _Annotations_ didn't sell well."

"No! That was purely marketing. They pulled their support after _Aliens_ hit the market. And what do you mean, I don't have alternate explanations? The appendix clearly marked out my theories and the reasoning for each one. And more importantly..." Daniel took a breath.

"Are you telling me you've read _The Pyramids of Giza, Annotations of the Ages_? Nobody outside the field reads that. Most people in the field haven't read it." Daniel crossed his arms, half in challenge, half in disbelief.

Jack smirked. "Truth?" He took off his sunglasses, revealing unexpectedly warm brown eyes that Daniel could sink into. "I can't stand archaeology. Dusty old stuff. I read some reviews of your work, that's all."

"Oh." Daniel deflated slightly. "But why...?"

"Because you, Dr. Jackson, are an interesting feller. Anyway," Jack shrugged, "I like to get to know the people whose pools I clean."

Daniel frowned, flustered. "Pools...?"

"Speaking of which, I should probably get to work."

"Oh, sure." Daniel started towards the house, but he stopped on the threshold. There was something about Jack that drew him in. Even the easy needling had been invigorating in a way. He tended to attract either sycophants or critics with a vendetta, and Jack was... Jack was real.

Daniel turned back decisively. "Hey, Jack. Afterwards, would you like to...?" He trailed off at the sight before him.

Jack had laid down his equipment, and he had started stripping.

And had kept stripping.

Off went the lumberjack shirt, revealing well-developed, tanned biceps. Off went the muscle shirt, laying bare a flat stomach and comfortably molded pectorals and abs. Off went the utility belt, the boots, the white athletic socks. (Who knew that long, slightly hairy toes could be so sexy?)

Daniel had to remind himself to breathe as the worn, over-sized jeans slipped down, inch by inch, revealing a miniscule garment, pure midnight black except for the discreet swish of the Speedo logo.

"So, Dr. Jackson." Daniel tore his eyes away and met Jack's laughing gaze. "You called someone to clean your pool?"

Daniel felt himself flush again, but this time he welcomed the tingle of tightened blood vessels and adrenaline. "Oh, yeah," he replied. "I'm pretty sure I did."

  
END.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this story, you might try these:  
> [Daycare](http://kuonji14.livejournal.com/21902.html) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
> [Water](http://community.livejournal.com/jd_ficathon/21924.html) (Stargate SG-1), by kuonji  
> [Extra Credit](http://sugarsbadhabit.livejournal.com/4058.html) (Stargate SG-1), by sugarsbadhabit  
> [Quest](http://green-grrl.livejournal.com/49797.html) (Stargate SG-1), by green_grrl  
> [That's A Wrap](http://princessofg.livejournal.com/320644.html) (Stargate SG-1), by The Grrl


End file.
